


A Quiet Night

by duckmoles



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 13:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17002731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckmoles/pseuds/duckmoles
Summary: It wasn’t a good battle.





	A Quiet Night

It wasn’t a good battle. Clint had second degree burns from when his perch had exploded, Wanda had a twisted ankle from when a chunk of building almost fell onto her, Steve had a nasty gunshot wound stitching itself shut on his shoulder, and Tony had been knocked around so many times Steve was surprised he was still standing.

When they got back to the tower, after hours of lectures about _unnecessary risk_ and _following orders_ , Tony said a quick good night, voice audibly strained, and disappeared into the bowels of the tower.

Steve followed him a few minutes later, the elevator moving through floors at what seemed like a snail’s pace. His bullet wound pulsed with pain.

The elevator door slid open.

The first thing Steve noticed was that Tony was still in the Iron Man armor, even though it was dented and covered in dirt and debris.

The second thing Steve noticed was the absolute mess on the floor – wires and metal and stray repulsor gear and computer parts littering the ground. Pieces of shattered glass were scattered on the floor where Tony stood, swaying.

“Tony,” Steve said, voice calm and firm.

Tony swirled around, clinging to the edge of a nearby table, clearly unstable on his feet. “Hi, Cap,” he said, “come down to yell at me some more?”

“Tony,” Steve said again. “Are you okay? Take off the suit. I’ll help you patch up any injuries you have.”

Tony laughed, low and sharp. “I’m fine, winghead. No need to get your panties in a twist.”

And there it was. Tony’s patented rudeness that he specifically used when he was hurting and trying to push other people away.

Steve stepped closer. He held his arms out, ignoring Tony’s flinch as Steve slowly, carefully, gently enveloped Tony in a hug.

“Take the armor off, Tony.”

Tony hiccupped, and – oh. The armor clattered to pieces around them, and there was just Tony, body bruised and sluggishly bleeding from a cut above his right eye. He buried himself into the warmth of Steve’s grasp.

“What were you doing?” Steve murmured.

“My fault,” Tony slurred. He wasn’t drunk, but his words were tinged with exhaustion. “I saw Nat – her widow bites failed and she got tackled. And you – the bullet ripped through your armor.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Steve said. “If anything, it was mine. I’m supposed to lead the team.”

Tony lurched back, blinking at Steve in shock. “No, it wasn’t! You led us perfectly – you’re the one that figured out why AIM was protecting their power source. I’m the one that fucked up. I have to –“

Steve started rubbing Tony’s back in slow circles. “You don’t have to do anything except let me dress these wounds for you,” he said. “And then you’re going to go to sleep and not even think about any of this until after we’ve had breakfast. Alright, Tony?”

At the sound of his name, Tony back slumped into Steve. “Alright, Cap,” he mumbled. “Alright.”

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt, "Take off the suit" in 500 words.


End file.
